


By the Honour of My Sword

by miabria



Category: Final Fantasy IV
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:48:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25702336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miabria/pseuds/miabria
Summary: Rosa sits in contemplation in front of the dwindling embers of a campfire. The dangers of Mt. Hobs weighing heavy on her mind and causing her to doubt her strength and resolve. She finds, however, that she is not alone in her doubts as the world falls steadily into the flames of war.
Relationships: Rosa Joanna Farrell/Cecil Harvey
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	By the Honour of My Sword

The night was well underway, darkness looming over the world in a thick, starless blanket. The only light source provided to the party came from the two moons hanging in the sky and the dwindling flames of a campfire near forgotten.

Mt. Hobs was less than hospitable, thankfully only partially inhabited by the undead. More so than Rosa would have liked, though her own magic and the newly acquired spells of the young summoner that accompanied them were enough to keep the boys alive. The trek upwards was exhausting, creatures of all kinds attacking any chance they got. Supplies were low, magical resources depleted, morale plummeting quickly…

It was a blessing when the four of them managed to find a safe space: a place the creatures seemed to avoid. It was the perfect spot for a campfire and some rest. After a quick meal, Rosa volunteered to take the first watch, staying awake while the others dozed. It was easier for her just to stay awake the extra few hours if it meant she could sleep the rest of the night through. However, there was much that weighed on her mind, heavy emotions, doubts, fears. None of which were settled by Cecil’s earlier words of comfort. He was confident in their goal, convinced of the king’s corruption. He maintained a calm composure and a stride worthy of a commanding knight. Every ounce of him exuded leadership and fortitude. Nothing seemed to weigh on his mind.

Of course, Rosa could see more than what was skin was deep. She could tell he also held doubts, could understand his pain as he quietly mourned the loss of his dearest friend. She saw in him the regrets he held towards the actions elicited by his dark blade. The night-colored armor he wore was slowly eating him alive, though to the others he seemed complete. Put-together. Not as though he were falling to pieces. Rosa shared in his pain: wanted to share the burden with him. The other two, while experiencing and suppressing pain of their own, could never enter the bubble Rosa and Cecil shared—the pain in knowing their home, which had once been so peaceful, was now the source of a planet-wide war. Or what seemed to be the start of one.

As Rosa sat prodding the embers of the fire, caught in the rare moment of serenity and lingering thoughts, she noticed the figure of the young girl stir from her sleep, sitting up slowly and wiping a hand across her face as if she had been crying, though not wanting that fact to show.

Rosa offered a smile to Rydia as she met her gaze, the girl quietly getting up to sit next to her by the fire. She had known the young summoner for only a few days now, yet she found herself rather fond of the girl. There was a kind of maternal instinct she elicited from Rosa, one that Rosa herself had never felt towards anyone, even around the young children in Baron. They had not been the victims of mass genocide as this girl had been, yet Rydia was stronger than any child she had met back home. More mature. She had been forced to grow up far quicker than any child should have, and she took it in stride. Should Rosa have been in her shoes at her age, she would have given up immediately. As strong as Rosa needed to be for Cecil, she could never be that strong for herself.

Or perhaps Rydia’s strength was for Cecil as well. This stranger whom, by all accounts, she should despise. And yet, Rydia hardly ever left his side. She saw the light in his heart just as Rosa did.

“Having trouble sleeping?” Rosa asked softly, offering the stick she had been using to prop the fire with, if for no reason than to give the girl something to do. Rydia took it and began poking at the fire, some jabs more violent than others, causing sparks to fly up from the shifting logs. Her face remained passive. It was an outlet, at least, for her pent-up emotions.

Rydia said nothing, staring into the light of the fire. Those mesmerizing flames in which Rosa could imagine the ghosts of a burning village dancing around. The young girl’s face proved that was exactly what she saw when she looked upon the fire as well. She had overcome her fear of it—a feat Rosa was inexplicably proud of her for—but the memories of destruction and death would undoubtedly haunt her forever. 

Heavy silence lingered between the two, clouds shifting over the light of the moons and casting more dramatic shadows to spring up from the flames. It would have been a relaxing night had the weight of the world not been placed on their shoulders.

“Rosa?”

The weak voice from the girl beside her snapped the white mage out of her thoughts, a soft hum of acknowledgement, coercing the girl to continue. There was a brief pause before she finally did.

“Can you fight with a sword like Cecil can?”

Rosa was caught off guard by the question, not entirely sure where it came from or how to answer. All she could manage was a small chuckle at her inquiry, “Why do you ask that?”

“You carry a sword with you, but I have never seen you use it. Do you know how?”

Hands instinctively moved to rest upon the elegantly decorated hilt of said sword. Anymore the weapon was such a constant presence amongst her accessories, she hardly ever noticed it was there. It was like the earrings dangling from her ears, the tiara-like pin in her golden hair, or the capes and beads that hung from her figure. It was a decoration that got lost amongst the others. Not for any practical use, but it gave her comfort to have it, despite her mother’s constant insistence that it was unladylike for a woman to carry around such a weapon. Her father would have disagreed had he still been alive…

That was the real reason she carried the blade on her person: it had belonged to her father. The mighty dragoon who had captured the heart of Lady Joanna. It was a source of security and offered her the comfort she needed to continue carrying the weight of Cecil’s sins. The sword, to her, represented all her mother had done for her father and it represented all Rosa was willing to do for Cecil in the future. She was there to protect him, not the other way around. She would lay down her life if it meant Cecil could live to fight another day. That was the role of a white mage to her knight. That was Rosa’s role in life.

Many would call her foolish, including her mother. Many would even say she was delusional to believe in her love so strongly. They were wrong; her father’s blade rested on her waist in proof of that. On the right side, not meant for her to unsheathe as she was not left-handed, but for Cecil should his blade become lost and he require another. Kain had often teased her for carrying the weapon, claiming it was nothing more but extra weight that she need not burden herself with. And yet, that too became a symbol to her. A physical reminder of the weight she carried for Cecil and for Kain.

The question Rydia had asked was complicated to answer. The sword was symbolic, it was practical, it was a memento… It held such a deep presence in her heart and in her mind that she could not even begin to explain to the child why it meant so much to her. She supposed Rydia could understand holding onto a keepsake from a deceased parent, but that was merely the surface of her reasonings. Rydia did not understand love and sacrifice the way Rosa did. She was nowhere near old enough. 

Deciding finally on how to simplify her answer in a way that would be satisfactory, Rosa smiled at the young girl. “I know how to hold it, yes, but the sword is not mine to fight with. It is Cecil’s, should he require it in a pinch.”

“Oh.” A moment of silence passed between them as the girl contemplated the answer she had received. “That’s rather nice of you to carry his sword. You must care for him a lot.”

“More than anything,” Rosa admitted easily, a small smile gracing her lips.

“He loves you too. I could tell when you were sick. He was worried.”

Her eyes glanced over to the sleeping figure of Cecil, her smile widening slightly. She knew he had been worried. He had told her so himself and the embrace they shared when she awoke from her fever proved how deeply he cared. He had done so much for her already and she wished for nothing more than to do the same for him.

“Cecil has a heart of gold, despite his fears that he is being engulfed by the darkness. He worries for everyone. Despite the things he has done under orders of our king, he is a good man.”

“I know.” The response came immediately from the girl, her eyes still fixated on the fire, though occasionally Rosa would catch her looking over at the sleeping men. 

Once again, the silence built up around them. It was less heavy than it had been before, though it was clear they both had much on their minds. And once again, Rosa’s mind began to drift to thoughts of the future and concern over their lost friend Kain. She thought about Edward and how he had found a love as strong as her and Cecil’s, only to have it stripped away from him along with everything else. Rose prayed she would not encounter a similar fate. Were she in his shoes, should Cecil be taken away from her, Rosa wholeheartedly believed she would not be able to continue living.

She was lucky compared to her two companions. She could easily imagine herself in either of their places, yet she had not had the displeasure of experiencing such drastic grief as they had. Her own losses seemed minute compared to theirs. Was she being selfish trying to keep Cecil so close to her? 

She did not have time to contemplate her own question, a strong hand resting tenderly on her shoulder. Somehow, she had completely missed Cecil move to get up, focused so heavily on her own thoughts. His body was clad in dark armor though his face was bare of the helmet; his warm smile ebbed away her worries and her doubts and she returned it without issue. However, his focus was not on her long, turning his attention to the young green-haired summoner.

“Are you not sleeping well, Rydia?”

She shook her head, “I was having nightmares.”

Cecil hummed in understanding, crouching toward the ground to be at her height as he spoke gently. “We need all your strength come morning. Rosa and I will be nearby. Nothing will hurt you; I promise.” His smile was as illuminating as the moon; Rosa watching the scene with her own small smile spread across her lips. “Please get all the sleep you can.”

Rydia nodded curtly, consoled by his words. She found her spot again a laid down, making herself as comfortable as possible.

The sound of an amused chuckle could be heard from Rosa, Cecil giving her a look of inquiry. “When did you get so good with children, Cecil?”

He let out his own chuckle, moving to sit closer to the blonde woman. “I’m not sure. Perhaps it is a natural gift.”

“One of many you have been given.”

Another chuckle from Cecil before they fell into a comfortable moment of silence. Cecil watched the flames of the dwindling fire, though not with as much malice as Rydia had. His eyes were thoughtful, sad, perhaps.

“You are thinking about Kain, aren’t you?” Rosa knew all too well that the disappearance of their friend weighed heavy on his mind. They could only hope for the best: that he returned to Baron and was safe and alive.

“Yes.” He paused, turning his attention upward toward the sky. “You say he was pronounced dead by the Baron guard, though I cannot believe it to be true. Kain is far too stubborn to die, especially by something as trivial as an earthquake.”

There was a hint of jest in his voice. Kain had bragged once about his ability to survive in the harshest of weather conditions, making a statement that not even a strike of lightning could take him out. It had become a joke amongst Rosa and Cecil that nothing, not even natural forces, could slay Kain. And yet… here they both were in doubt that they would ever see their friend again. Rosa herself had been told that Kain and Cecil were killed on their assignment. She refused to believe it when she first heard the news and now, knowing that Cecil had lived, she had even more reason to believe that Kain was still out there as well. She only hoped they would be reunited soon.

“You should get some sleep as well.” Cecil replaced the grip of his hand to her shoulder, squeezing gently, comfortingly. “We need your strength too if we hope to survive the treck up this mountain.”

Rosa nodded; her own hand placed atop his if only to reassure herself that he was there beside her. “If we return to Baron—”

Cecil held up his free hand to cut her off, a knowing look on his face. “When we return to Baron, we will talk then.” He placed a chaste kiss on her lips, ending as quickly as it had begun, and smiled his warm, affectionate smile. “Now get some rest.”

She hesitated only a moment before nodding once more and moving to a more comfortable space to lay. “Goodnight, Cecil.”

There was a slight pause before his low voice replied, “Goodnight, Rosa.”


End file.
